poezii de la prieteni

        hãum peigi     poezii d'ale mele     poezii de la prieteni     anatol e. baconsky     nichita stãnescu     marin sorescu
        mircea dinescu     george bacovia     mircea cãrtãrescu      alexandru andries     tudor arghezi     mihai codreanu
        un fel de prozã     teorii cu privire la om si activitãtile sale    gabriel garcia marquez    loc de dat cu ciomagu' 

 
 

                                                                 haiku

                                                            În inima mea
                                                            -floare deschisã-
                                                            dragostea sovãie:
                                                            Teamã?
 
 
 

                                                                 De iubire

                                                            Ti-as rupe mîinile
                                                            ca sã nu mai poti
                                                            sã mã faci sã cînt si sã urlu.
                                                            Ti-as smulge buzele
                                                            si ti le-as arunca în foc
                                                            ca sã învete odatã ce înseamnã
                                                            arsura.
                                                            Ti-as smulge ochii
                                                            ca sã nu mai fete dorinti
                                                            si intrebãri.
                                                            Te-as spinteca
                                                            cu o mie de cutite
                                                            ascutite,
                                                            dar mai ales
                                                            ti-as rupe picioarele
                                                            ca sã ramîi
                                                            mereu
                                                            lîngã mine.
 
 
 

                                                                    Blesteme

                                                            Iesi, ceas rãu
                                                            tu rãu
                                                            ceas rãu cu spariet
                                                            ceas rãu cu duh necurat
                                                            ceas rãu cu cu strigoi
                                                            si stima pãdurii!
                                                            Iesi din fundul pamîntului!

                                                            Te blestem sã-ti fie viata povarã
                                                            mai rea ca o piatrã de moarã!
                                                            Sã-ti moarã norocul!
                                                            Sã arzi ca focul
                                                            de dor greu!
                                                            Sã te uite Dumnezeu!
                                                            Striga-te-ar relele pe nume
                                                            si sapte fecioare nebune
                                                            sã te lepede din lume!
                                                            Arzã-ti-ar gura frumoasã
                                                            si mincinoasã
                                                            o serpoaicã veninoasã
                                                            suptã din tîte de drac!
                                                            Sã-ti moarã sufletul în veac!
                                                            Sã n-ai leac!
                                                            Sã ai parte de rele
                                                            si sã nu mai scapi de ele!
                                                            Prinde-te-ar sapte iele
                                                            frumoase , vîntoase!
                                                            Zace-ti-ar viermii în oase!
                                                            Sapte broaste rîioase
                                                            rãtãci-ti-ar mintile!
                                                            Arunca-te-ar în lumea
                                                            cea farã de fund
                                                            si neagrã ca tãciunele
                                                            de sub pamînt!
                                                            Tu, tu, tu, tu!
                                                            Sã bei venin de ti-o fi sete!
                                                            Sã te blesteme sapte fete!
                                                            Sã te alunge vîntul!
                                                            Sã te-nghitã pãmîntul!
                                                            Te blestem sã-ti fie
                                                            viata grea si durerea vie!
                                                            Te belstem ca pãcatele
                                                            sã ti le cari cu spatele!
                                                            Uita-ti-s-ar numele!
                                                            Sã te iubeascã mumele!
                                                            Usca-ti-s-ar sîngele!
                                                            Sã-ti refuze popa ortul,
                                                            dar sã traiesti ca mortul!
                                                            O lupoaicã surã
                                                            sã te sfîsie cu o gurã
                                                            plinã de colti de nebunã!
                                                            Sã te umple de urã!
                                                            Sã crapi de venin!
                                                            Sã te oblojesti cu pelin!
                                                            Necazurile
                                                            sã-ti ia urma!
                                                            Sã te tîrãsti ca rîma!
                                                            Sã nu mai poti sã te crucesti!

                                                            Ptiu! Ptiu! Ptiu!
                                                            Na!
                                                            Te-am blestemat sã iubesti!
 
 
 

                                                                    Reglare de conturi

                                                            Ai sã vii sa-mi spui
                                                            cã nu. Inteleg...
                                                            Eu am sã rãmîn ca un pui
                                                            de bogdaproste, bleg,
                                                            crãpat în trei.
                                                            Tu nu mã vrei
                                                            si asta doare.
                                                            Doare adînc
                                                            ca un furunc
                                                            copt în inimã.
                                                            Doare ca o crimã...
                                                            Ai sã mã mîngîi, probabil, pe cap,
                                                            ai sã-mi spui cã am sã scap,
                                                            cã nu-i altã cale...
                                                            Eu mã voi face moale
                                                            ca o cîrpã de sters,
                                                            mã voi opri din mers
                                                            cu mîna la piept.
                                                            Si-am sã gîndesc cã Dumnezeu
                                                            mi-a dat drumul meu,
                                                            nu drept,
                                                            ci stîng.
                                                            Si am sã plîng...
 
 

                                                                    Fãrã titlu

                                                            Am sã te uit pe tine
                                                            ca si pe ceilalti
                                                            pîna cînd
                                                            nu veti mai fi
                                                            decît un zîmbet
                                                            pe buzele
                                                            unei femei bãtrîne.

                                                                                Anda Aldea
 
 



 
 
 
 

                                                                                        Fãrã titlu
 

                                                                                Cuvîntul din vis
                                                                               Fereste abis
                                                                                Roteste lumina în tine
                                                                                Dezbracã tu haine de de carne si oase
                                                                                Si vezi înlauntru.
                                                                                Lucind, peste cer
                                                                                Curg infinituri.
                                                                                Tu frunzã de viatã
                                                                                Te nasti ca o rimã
                                                                                Ce-si are în ea
                                                                                Cadenta luminã

                                                                                Este un cuvînt...
                                                                                (Sau poate nu...)
                                                                                Ce nu-ncape în vãi si ape,
                                                                                Trezeste din moarte, vindeca boli
                                                                                Oroare de sînge si strigãt prin flori,
                                                                                Mai mult decît focul
                                                                                E viu ca lumina.
                                                                                Cuvînt ce nu-ncapi
                                                                                În timp si-n pãtrate
                                                                                Cuvînt fãr' de zestre, e zestrea de zeu.

                                                                                Nimic nu este destul pentru a da
                                                                                Chip a ceea ce este în toate chipurile,
                                                                                Joc liber al Lilei întru a fi.
                                                                                Fã-te tigare dragostea mea
                                                                                În Ursa Mare învelit cu aer.
                                                                                Dacã n-as sti cã universul s-a descoperit
                                                                                Asa cum îl vedem...
                                                                                Cu trupul pe care-l avem,
                                                                                Cu sînge, lacrimi si oase...
                                                                                E un punct din care poti privi
                                                                                Farã a osîndi.
                                                                                Înlauntru si-n afarã
                                                                                Universul se acoperã
                                                                                Si se descoperã.

                                                                                E o miscare de cuprindere, de îmbrãtisare...
                                                                                Ce transparentã au luminile
                                                                                Spãlate în retinã...
                                                                                Inima lumii respirînd înlãuntru si în afarã.
                                                                                Ce limitã scoartã,
                                                                                Acoperis de piele au zilele mele.
                                                                                Ai luat chipul celest
                                                                                Sub cupola de sticlã
                                                                                Ridicatã pe verticalã.

                                                                                Ochi te-am clãdit pe boltã
                                                                                Si aerul îsi rarefiaza crestele.
                                                                                Pîna aripii este cu totul altceva,
                                                                                Lacrimã pietrificatã
                                                                                Din fuga în celest.

                                                                                Adun firele de iarbã
                                                                                Rãsãrite din durerea de a fi
                                                                                Unul si acelasi.
 
 

                                                                                                                    Gabriel Alexandrescu